


Disciplinary Action for a Wayward Vigilante

by MythologyGirl



Category: Batman Beyond
Genre: Age Difference, Coming In Pants, Corporal Punishment, Daddy Kink, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Praise Kink, Non-Consensual Bondage, Old Bruce Wayne, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26993392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythologyGirl/pseuds/MythologyGirl
Summary: Terry does good as Batman. He knows he does. So what if he gets a bit banged up here and there?Bruce thinks differently.
Relationships: Terry McGinnis/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	Disciplinary Action for a Wayward Vigilante

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kei_LS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kei_LS/gifts).



> Dedicated to a friend whom has given me a great love for Batman Beyond. Happy unbirthday~! 
> 
> Big thank you to farf for the beta read. ❤

"You disobeyed."

Terry groaned. That was not the first thing he wanted to hear when he got back to the cave. Patrol had been brutal enough without having Bruce’s ‘I’m disappointed in you’ spiel making his headache worse. He'd lost count of how many fists his face became acquainted with over the last several hours, and he had hoped to avoid Bruce's nitpicking. It seemed he wouldn't get his wish.

With a long drawn out sigh, Terry walked further into the cave. Every step felt heavier than the last, his body screamed for rest. He knew he wouldn’t be getting any studying or homework done tonight.

He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers digging into the sore muscle. Worst part of being Batman? The lectures. "What? No welcome back? No good job. Thanks for saving all those people, Terry?"

"You could have gotten yourself killed," Bruce growled as he slammed his cane onto the floor. The sound sharp as it reverberated off the walls, causing the bats to shriek in displeasure, their wings flapping in agitation. It was eerie. It was dramatic. It was just like Bruce.

Old man loved nothing more than being a drama queen.

"As you can see," Terry said, pausing to do a little twirl and shot finger guns at the older man. "I didn't."

Bruce didn’t even grimace at the ‘pew, pew’ sound effect Terry had added. "That's not the point."

"Geez, Old Man,” Terry huffed as he stretched his arms up, arching his back until there was a loud pop. He hummed in content as he dropped his arms back to his side, rolling his shoulders as he slowly started to make his way over to where the older man sat in front of the larger monitors. "Relax before you give yourself an aneurysm. I don't need that on my conscience."

"This isn't a joke, Terrence. I thought you knew that." Bruce's voice was hard and unwavering. A tone Terry was all too familiar with when he was in trouble with his mom.

Apprehension bubbled in Terry’s stomach, clawing its way up until it nearly encompassed him like an unwelcome hug. It was going to be one of those nights. This lecture went from being quick to potentially hours long. For a man that always claimed being a loner, Bruce really did like to hear himself talk—especially when it was nagging.

"And I thought you learned to trust me." Terry sighed as he came to a stop in front of Bruce's chair. He ran a hand down his face as he attempted to reign in his frustration. He was tired, he was sore, and he was in no mood to reenact this well worn argument.

He sighed again. Terry made sure the sound was loud as he slumped a little, trying desperately to convey how exhausted he was. "Listen, I did good out there and I made it out just like always. So what if I took a few hits? It’s not a big deal."

Bruce’s disapproving glare shouldn’t have been as intimidating as it was, especially with the man sitting down while Terry towered over him. Terry was barely able to suppress the urge to flinch back. It was sometimes easy to forget this man had once worn the batsuit himself. That Bruce was the prime example of being able to take the suit off the man, but not being able to take the man off the suit.

It was disconcerting. Terry did his best not to let it show.

“Taking ‘a few hits’ matters more than you think,” Bruce said, his glare never wavering. He leaned forward, his cane creaking under the pressure of his grip. “There’s going to come a day when it doesn’t end ‘just like always’ because of your recklessness.”

“Like the second Robin,” Terry snorted. He was aiming to hurt. Anything to get out of this and get to go lay down for a couple hours. He froze when he saw the flash of grieve pass over Bruce’s face. Deep and agonizing. It wasn’t an expression Terry had ever seen on his boss before. He reached a hand out, to do what he didn’t know, but the older man knocked it away, as he spun his chair around to face away from Terry. “Mr. Wayne, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Bruce murmured. “But you will be.”

Terry stepped back. “What?”

“Computer shut down the suit.”

“Not again,” Terry whined as his limbs locked up. His body pitched forward as Bruce spun his chair back, propelling it forward to catch the younger man. It all happened in an instant. Terry barely had time to process his new position draped over Bruce’s lap before the man’s big hands were at his waist. He tried not to focus on how the warmth of those hands seeped through the suit. How they nearly swallowed his hips whole.

“Wait! Mr. Wayne, what are you doing,” Terry shouted as the older man deftly removed his utility belt. The thump it made against the cave’s floor fueling the dread stirring in the pit of Terry’s stomach. He strained his muscles against the stiffness of the batsuit’s protection protocols, vainly struggling to wiggle free on pure will alone.

“You need to be shown there are consequences for your actions,” Bruce said. He hooked his fingers under the tight waistband of the batsuit’s pants, pulling them down until it rested just under Terry’s ass, humming in approval when he noted the lack of underwear. He ran his hand over one of the globes, giving it a light smack -- it hardly jiggled. “And I think I know just the way to do it.”

“You can’t be serious,” Terry laughed nervously. He tried to turn his head to see the older man’s expression and cursed when he couldn’t. The suit was well and truly locked, keeping any part of him that was covered from moving even an inch without Bruce’s assistance. Out of all the reasons for this particular failsafe being built in, Terry never thought it would be used like this. There was no way his mentor was about to spank him.

Was there?

Even his mom never took him over her knee like this and he certainly didn’t remember his dad doing so, no matter how much he mouthed off or strained against their rules. At most he would just be grounded for a while and they would all move on until the next infraction.

“Bruce,” Terry inquired when the silence stretched a few seconds too long. He was sure his face was near incandescent the longer he laid across the man’s lap with his ass bare. He tried to squirm again, biting his lip under the mask. “Bruce, I get it. You're not happy. You made your point. Can we pull up my pants now and release the override? My ass is getting cold and I’m starting to get cramps on my cramps. Seriously—”

Terry yelped as a harsh slap connected with his skin, knocking the breath out of him and caused him to lurch forward on Bruce’s lap. The only thing keeping him from tumbling off was the hand that moved to press against the small of his back. He could feel his skin tingling as Bruce drew back his hand, the cool air did nothing to soothe the burn.

“Holy smokes,” Terry said, struggling to regain his breath. He wheezed as he choked on the air. “For an old man, you sure still know how to hit.”

“That’s another ten for your back talk,” Bruce said evenly as he adjusted Terry’s body more firmly on his lap. His knee pressing dangerously close to Terry’s crotch.

“Another ten? Added to how—” Terry was cut off as more quick slaps rained down on his ass. The deafening claps of Bruce’s wide palm as he hit his target injected humiliation down Terry’s spine.

Terry bit his lip hard as he tried to keep the gasps of pain locked behind his teeth. Each smack brought a fresh wave of stinging pain and mortification. He was grateful Bruce never took off his cowl. He had no doubt his face was as glowing as red as his ass.

He was less grateful when he felt the all too familiar feeling of arousal beginning to stir in his gut. There was no doubt in his mind that the older man could feel Terry's stiffening cock with every slap as his body rocked forward into Bruce's thigh under the force.

"Bruce, come on. Are you done yet?" Terry panted out during a small reprieve. The cool, damp air of the cave felt nice against the fiery mounds of his butt.

Bruce hummed, a large hand running over his ass, calluses scratchy against Terry's sensitive skin. He jostled his leg, pushing it into Terry's crotch. He smirked, "Are you sure you want me to be done?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Terry said. His cock pulsed. There was never a better time than now for the floor to gain sentience and swallow him whole. Of course, it didn't. Terry glared down at it, betrayed.

"You don't do you," Bruce said as he pushed his leg up again causing Terry to moan at the pressure against his idick. "You want daddy to keep punishing you."

"What - did you just," the words tumbled from Terry's mouth, his brain stuttering to a halt. He felt his flush deepen, "You're too old to be my dad."

Terry yelped as another sharp slap landed across his tender ass. It was harder than the rest, just shy of grazing his balls. His vision grew hazy as tears began to gather at the corner of his eyes causing it to blur and the cowl covering his face to grow even more uncomfortable.

"Is that anyway to speak to your daddy," Bruce said. It was amazing how Bruce could keep a straight face, his gnarled features never once twitching from the perpetual frown that the older man wore, when he said such embarrassing things.

Terry could feel his mind slowly breaking at the ridiculousness of it all. There was no way this was happening. First, getting spanked like some petulant child that broke the rules and now this. He was Batman for god sake. This was Gotham not the Twilight Zone.

“Can you stop? This is embarrassing.” Terry swallowed and tried to ignore how hard his cock was. He found himself wishing once again he had taken the time to remove the paralytic emulation override of the batsuit. He didn’t know if he would be able to handle it if he spunked in his trousers while he was draped over Bruce’s lap, untouched and from a spanking. It was going to be hard enough to look Bruce in the eye after this without his body’s added indignity.

“It's supposed to be. This is a punishment, Terrance,” Bruce said, his tone was hard as if he really was talking to a naughty child. He drummed his fingers along the seam of Terry’s crack.

“Stop calling me that,” Terry demanded. He was thankful he was able to turn his moan into a passable snarl. "My mom only calls me that when I'm in trouble. It's already awkward enough."

Another sharp smack landed on Terry’s ass. “You _are_ in trouble Terrance."

Terry swore, he knew if it weren’t for the suit preventing it, he’d have pushed up into Bruce’s hand. "For the last time Bruce. I did what I had to do to save those people."

“You got yourself hurt with your recklessness,” Bruce replied. Another smack. “You need to be more careful. There’s people who love you waiting for you to come back to them. How do you think your mother would feel if you suddenly never came home?”

_**SMACK.**_

“Your brother?”

_**SMACK.**_

“Me.”

The word was soft, Terry almost didn’t hear it over the sound of slaps ringing in his ears. It was almost funny to Terry that that one, small whispered word was what caused him to break. A thunderous cry spilled from him, the tears finally pouring over and wetting his mask, making it stick unpleasantly to his face. “Dammit, I’m sorry okay?! I didn't mean --” He words caught on a sob. “I didn’t mean to make anyone worry.”

“I know you didn’t.” Bruce's voice was gentle, the hard edge that he’d been wearing melting away with the younger man’s apology. “But you know Daddy still has to finish your punishment. Hard headed boys like you need a tough hand to make the lesson stick.”

With that Bruce continued to spank him, quick and with little fanfare. He paused a few times to gently rub Terry’s ass, jostling his knee against Terry throbbing cock, and let him know how good he was doing. How well he was being behaved. And then, after what felt like eternity, it was over.

“I’m sorry,” Terry hiccupped, his throat felt raw. “I’m sorry.”

He barely registered Bruce commanding the batsuit’s override off, his limbs going lax without the mechanism to support them. It was easy to let the older man maneuver him so he was sitting on Bruce’s lap, legs spread over on Bruce’s thighs, his erection trapped against his hip.

"It's okay, son. You can let go. You took Daddy’s punishment so well." Bruce said as he rubbed the younger man's back as Terry sobbed, head buried in the hollow of Bruce's neck. He reached up to peel off the cowl, big hand covering Terry’s cheek as he wiped away his tears. “I think you deserve a reward.”

“You’re damn right I do,” Terry sniffled with a pout. He jerked when Bruce jostled his thigh, the pressure stinging against his sore ass. The pain quickly turned into pleasure as his cock rubbed against Bruce’s hip, causing him to groan.

Bruce chuckled and moved his hands to grip Terry by the hips, his hold light. He raised one of his heavy brows. “Have at it.”

“So lazy,” Terry mumbled. He slowly, carefully rolled his hips, bouncing on Bruce’s thick leg. He pressed his face tighter against his mentor’s neck as he whimpered at the building arousal. Focused on the feel of his cock as it strained against the unforgiving material of the batsuit as he rutted faster. His breath coming out in wet pants against Bruce’s skin.

The pleasure built quick, Terry’s cock weeping with the need for release. His thrusts grew erratic as he thought of how he must look. Ass bare and freshly painted red, face burning with desire only matched by his rock hard dick.  
“That’s it. That’s a good boy,” Bruce murmured, breath ghosting over the shell of Terry’s ear. His thumbs tenderly tracing over Terry’s hip bone. “Cum for daddy.”

Terry twitched, a shout tearing it’s way out of his abused throat, vision whiting out. When he finally regained his bearings, he felt like he could combust from embarrassment. He just came in the batsuit. On Bruce’s lap. With a mortified groan he resisted the urge to leave his face buried, leaning back to look Bruce in the eye. “Well, that was a thing.”

“It was,” Bruce agreed easily. This close, Terry could see the uncertainty lurking in his expression.

Terry grabbed his face and forced Bruce to look at him, “It was good Bruce. A little, okay a lot, unexpected, and maybe you really should have asked first, but it was good.”

He waited until Bruce nodded tightly before dropping his hands to the older man’s shoulders. “Ugh, my ass is so sore. At least you didn’t use your cane,” Terry joked as he shifted. The stickiness trap in his suit quickly became uncomfortable. He regretted it the moment the words tumbled from his mouth when Bruce’s eyes darkened in interest.

The night wasn’t over yet apparently.


End file.
